


french-dip

by renegade_heart (stover)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crush at First Sight, F/F, Love at First Sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 20:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13442430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stover/pseuds/renegade_heart
Summary: girl meets girl via tripping in the middle of a busy street in a crowded canadian city





	french-dip

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post on Tumblr. Was originally posted under the name [stover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stover).

**** “You know my interview is in 15 minutes, right?”   
  
“Look, I’m really sorry Ymir,” the garbled voice blasted into her ear, “but, uh, my car’s being towed and I just—”   
  
“Go fuck yourself, Brad. And tell Lucy to go fuck herself too. I can hear her, you know. Next time you wanna ditch somebody, slap some tape on her so you don’t get fucked.”   
  
“Wait, Ymir—!”   
  
She dropped the call before shitforbrains Brad pissed her off even more. That was the last time she was talking to that dick. Fucking Brad, ugh. She knew asking him for a ride was a bad idea. But Reiner had his hands full and Eren totaled his car last week. Brad was the only option she had left if she wanted to keep her apartment. This interview was supposed to be her thing; her gig as gymnastics instructor didn’t pay enough, so this was her last shot until rent was up. She was supposed to make it through this month with this, and. Well.   
  
So much for that. What shitty luck.   
  
Ymir slouched against the brick wall of her apartment building. Time to climb ten flights of stairs back to the crap-shit hole in the wall she called home. Ymir scoffed, pushing herself off angrily and trudging away from her apartment building. Yeah right. She actually showered and bothered to look nice this morning. Might as well find someplace nice to brood in, right? Blow off some steam with a walk.   
  
She powered through the cold Vancouver streets, a blur of faces passing by without so much as a second glance in her way. The world was a crazy place; so many people, so many minds, so many places— and yet every single one of them had their own bubble. Their own niche. Their own thing.   
  
It was mindblowing. To stop and look at a stranger and think, hey, you’ve got a life. A complex life, with layers of shit and fluff and everything else in between. You’ve got friends. You’ve got dreams. You’ve got goals. You’ve got a horrible sense of balance because you’re tripping over your own two feet and—   
  
The blonde girl crossing the street and heading her way had been texting furiously and hadn’t seen the way the manhole cover jutted out just an inch. Her foot thudded against it and — her face froze, eyes widening — she teetered forward, taking three bad steps before her body finally pitched forward with an alarmed squeal.   
  
Ymir’s whole arm shot out. The girl’s arms flailed in the air, narrowingly missing Ymir’s face. Somehow, the girl rolled down the length of Ymir’s arm, so Ymir snapped her hand up to catch the girl’s back just as the girl’s flailing arms circled around Ymir’s neck.   
  
And just like that, they were face to face à la french-dip in the middle of the street.   
  
The only thing Ymir saw was the girl’s eyes. The brightest blue she’s ever seen, and glowing up at her with such intensity Ymir was afraid she’d melt right into them. With the hand on the girl’s back, she felt the soft warmth through the down of the girl’s red vest. The girl’s minty breath hit her lips in a gentle, warm puff. Ymir’s own breath caught in her chest.   
  
Oh man, she thought dizzyingly, heart pounding her chest, I don’t wanna let her go.   
  
“So,” some voice called out from somewhere in the crowd, “when’s the wedding, eh?”   
  
The girl in her arms squeaked, her whole face turning red. The girl let go of Ymir’s neck; she almost flung back like a rubber band fired with a finger gun. Her hand on the girl’s back slipped off, leaving Ymir feeling like she did at practice whenever she missed the bar on her way down.   
  
“I’m sorry!” the girl cried, hands waving before her in a panic. “I-I didn’t mean to walk into you like that! Um— I’ll— I’ll just be going now. Th-Thank you—!”   
  
Ymir stared numbly after the girl who dashed away, crossing the street and disappearing into the crowds.   
  
…And from her life!   
  
“W-Wait!” Ymir cried out, dashing forward.   
  
A heavy weight suddenly slammed into her, giant clamps squeezing her around the middle, and she was thrown backwards and into the pavement.   
  
“Get off me!” Ymir hacked out, digging her elbow into the back of the very male figure who had lunged right at her.   
  
The guy scrambled off her and raised his head, revealing a snarling, pissed-off face that reminded Ymir very much of Jean Kirschstein.   
  
Because the guy was Jean Kirschstein.   
  
“What the hell, Ymir?!” he hissed, pushing himself off the ground with a wince.   
  
Pfft. What a baby.   
  
“Same to you, jackass,” she snapped without much bite. “What’d you do that for—”   
  
Jean grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her violently. “I just saved your life, you asshat! And you try to break my spine?! What is wrong with you??”   
  
“Oh.” Ymir pretended to give this a moment's thought, noting the whizzing traffic on the street they were standing next to. She grinned, large and wide, and patted Jean’s cheek. “Thanks a lot, Jean.”   
  
“You—!” Jean started, then shook his head. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t get you at all.”   
  
“Nice to see some effort there, Jeanbo.”   
  
“S-Stop that! You can’t call me that!”   
  
“Yeah, yeah…” Ymir was only half-listening. She was waiting for the traffic lights to change. Which would be… right…   
  
“Oi, are you—”   
  
Now!   
  
Ymir flashed her best shit-eating grin. “See ya, Jeanbo!” She leaped away from Jean’s angry shouts and ran blindly down the street, racing past a florist, two bakeries, and a crafts shop, seeing only the girl she’d held in her arms, before she was stopped by another light.   
  
Impatient, she jogged in place, ignoring the odd looks that came her way, and stared stubbornly at the traffic light.   
  
But then she stopped.   
  
Because across the street, just by the window inside a Barnes and Noble, was the girl.   
  
And she was staring right back.   
  
They looked at each other for a long, long time, not taking their eyes off one another, both with faces flushed red from the cold, the run, the embarrassment. The girl placed a hand to the window, leaning forward with bright eyes.   
  
The traffic light changed.   
  
Ymir crossed the street.   



End file.
